Love Is Danger (Club Aegis Book 3)

by Christie Adams

  He wasn’t fooling anyone. If he no longer had any feelings for her, his reaction would have been one of indifference—if Beth had harboured any doubts that she was doing the right thing, they would have been dispelled in that moment. “Cam, you don’t believe that any more than I do—so just shut up and listen. Stacie made me promise not to say anything about this to either you or Alex. I’ve already broken that promise in relation to my husband, and since it’s something that affects you, I have even more reason to break it where you’re concerned.”

  “Beth—”

  “Please, Cam! Just listen to what I have to say. Please.” The tears were frighteningly close to the surface again. So much for thinking she’d managed to get rid of them all. “Cam, I wish there were a way to say this without hurting you, but there’s something you really need to know. About Stacie.”

  Beth sought refuge in her coffee, trying to find the right words. She didn’t want to hurt this man any more than she had to. And what she had to tell him would hurt.

  “Angel, if you’re trying to work out how to spare my feelings, don’t—just tell me. Whatever it is, I can handle it—I’m a big boy now. What about Stacie?”

  He had no idea. Beth felt a glimmer of the pain she knew was heading his way. Cam’s feelings in general ran far deeper than the image he projected might suggest. She’d seen him and Stacie together, knew just how much she’d meant to him even if he’d never faced up to the fact himself. His body language now verged on the defensive, as if he were bracing himself to hear something he really didn’t want to hear.

  “She never had a chance to tell you, because she only found out when she was in hospital after the explosion at the conference. She needed time to deal with it herself before she spoke to you about it—to work out how best to tell you.” She pressed her lips together, the words forming in her mind. Well, he said he was a big boy…

  “Cam, she was pregnant. She had no idea until they told her in the hospital, and then about six weeks after you left, she had a miscarriage. She wasn’t going to tell me, but I pushed her into it.”

  Stacie. Pregnant. Miscarriage.

  Each word felt like a roundhouse punch a heavyweight boxer would have been proud of. Christ, what had he done?

  An arctic chill struck through Cam’s body. “Why the hell didn’t she say something?” He looked at Beth’s face, searching for answers.

  “Think about it, Cam. She’d assured you she was on birth control—but then she got the flu and was sick, and for that period it was less effective. A few weeks later, she’s told that she’s pregnant, and it’s the last thing she expects to hear. The news was devastating for her. She needed time to come to terms with it herself before she told you, because she had no idea how you’d react. Then you got the idea into your thick head—”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Alex told me what you said. You got the idea into your thick head that she needed protecting and the only way you could do it was by leaving her. You didn’t discuss it with her, you never gave her a chance to make her own decision about it. You decided you knew best, and she had no say in the matter.”

  The rush of memories was overwhelming. He’d got her hurt, and then blithely made his arrangements to leave the country—got all the ducks in a row, then in cold blood he’d called the woman he loved and told her it was all over. He’d been so sure he was doing the right thing, but all he’d done was leave her at her most vulnerable.

  He tried to put himself in her place. Being caught in the explosion was bad enough, but then she’d had an unplanned pregnancy thrown into her lap. She had no way of knowing how he’d react; she’d be wondering if she should have the baby, and if she did, should she keep the child? How would she cope on her own?

  And then the miscarriage—weeks later. She must have decided to have the baby…and then she lost it. He couldn’t even begin to imagine…

  Holy shit, he’d been the biggest bastard in creation.

  “Cam, I know you blame yourself for her getting hurt,” Beth continued, her voice soft and full of compassion, “but it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t her fault either. If you want to blame someone, blame the terrorists. Are you all right?”

  Beth’s gentle hand on his arm brought him back to the present…to reality. “No, I’m not all right,” he admitted heavily, guilt making it difficult to speak normally. He felt like he’d never be all right again. “Do you know how far…?”

  “Twelve weeks, give or take. A girl, Stacie said.”

  A daughter. Oh Christ, he’d had a daughter. With Stacie. “I don’t deserve her, but I have to go to her, Beth—I need…we need to talk about this, and get everything out into the open.”

  “Don’t be angry with her, Cam.”

  He took in Beth’s worried expression. “It’s all right, angel. There’s only one person I’m angry with—it’s not Stacie, and before you ask, it’s not you either. It’s me.” He shook his head. “I should have said something. It’s long overdue.”

  ~~*~~

  It had taken every shred of willpower Cam possessed to wait until his ribs were fully healed before he went to face his sub. For the mission that lay ahead, he needed to be at the top of his game.

  Stacie was at work, still in the same job—a phone call to her office from one of his people had confirmed that. Cam could have met her there, maybe taken her out for lunch…if what they had to talk about hadn’t been so important, so emotional, so personal…so painful. Instead, he’d chosen to sit in his car, fifty yards down the road from her apartment building, and wait for her to come home. Then they could talk.

  If she’d let him in to talk to her.

  It was a hell of a big fucking if.

  He checked the time again—the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. Her office would have closed about twenty minutes ago—if she’d left on time and not taken any detours, she’d probably be arriving soon.

  Cam forced his hands to relax—the stretch of his fingers, after they’d been clenched tightly for so long, made his knuckles ache. This was going to be the most important conversation of his life, and he had no idea where the hell he was going to start. He’d been wrong, so wrong, to end things between them. Stacie had haunted his thoughts every day while he’d been away. And he didn’t even want to think about the way he’d rejected her on the plane back to the UK. He’d been a complete bastard towards her and he didn’t deserve to have even a chance to make things right.

  Movement down the road caught his eye—someone was walking from the direction of the Tube station. Even at that distance, he knew it was her—he recognised her walk. She had a bag over one shoulder and a carrier of groceries in the other hand. When she reached the steps in front of her building she ran up them, towards the main entrance.

  Christ, she was a sight for sore eyes. Young and pretty and all the good things, the best things he’d ever had in his life. And the mother of his lost child, his shame reminded him. Would she ever forgive him? Did he even have the right to ask? He closed his eyes. He was a fool to ask, the answer was a foregone conclusion, but he had to try, he had to find out if there was any chance that she might let him back into her life.

  Who dares wins, right?

  The door closed behind her. Now he had to wait for another resident to arrive, so that he could slip into the building behind them. Announcing his presence via the intercom would only give her the opportunity to marshal her defences. Of course she could still deny him entrance once he reached her front door.

  I have to try.

  He let three people go in before he decided he was ready. He looked at the flowers laid on the seat beside him—no, they were too obvious, but the other item, the one that was small enough for him to conceal it in his pocket…if the conversation went in such a way that it became evident that she wouldn’t want it, she’d never know he had it. With a deep breath, he got out of the car and pulled on his jacket—she’d always liked the charcoal-grey suit, black shirt and black silk tie. Finally out
of reasons to procrastinate any further, he started the longest walk of his life.

  I have to try.

  Ascending the stairs to her apartment was almost like an out-of-body experience for Cam, as if someone else was in control of his actions and he was looking down from above. Someone else lifted his hand…someone else’s finger pressed the doorbell.

  And if she looked through the spy hole in the door, she’d never let him in.

  I have to try.

  A chain, a bolt, the click of a secure lock. Cam heard them all and tried not to think of the time he’d added those security measures. The door slowly opened. In the widening gap, he saw a shoulder, an arm, a fall of honey-gold waves…and storm-grey eyes that quickly hid whatever emotions were going through her, as the woman he loved beyond all reason stepped back, opening the door wider.

  “Beth’s talked to you, hasn’t she?” she said quietly. “You’d better come in.”

  I have to try.

  It was only a matter of time. Realistically, Stacie knew that Cam would find out the truth sooner or later—it was simply too big a secret for it not to come out at some point. She blamed herself for telling Beth in the first place—if she couldn’t keep her own secret from Beth, how could she expect Beth to keep it from a man like her husband…a man like Cam? Stacie wondered exactly how much Cam knew.

  “Please, sit down,” she invited, extending a hand towards one of the large sofas. “Would you like a drink? I was just about to make some coffee, but I have wine if you’d prefer that.”

  He cleared his throat. “Coffee will be fine, thanks. White, one sugar.”

  “I remember,” she said without emotion. “I won’t be long.”

  The kettle had just boiled, so it only took her seconds to make the drinks. When she returned from the kitchen, he was still standing by the coffee table, where she’d left him.

  A rush of heat overwhelmed Stacie at the sight of her Master. She’d never imagined she’d ever see him there again…and looking handsome enough to send any woman weak at the knees. The suit was one of her favourites and fitted him to perfection, not that she would have expected anything less. She had a feeling that he was wearing it like a suit of armour—as if he were about to go into battle. Battle for what, though—that was the question.

  He was standing with his hand in his trouser pocket, fidgeting with something—not his car keys, as they were on the coffee table. He was all potent male animal…and to anyone who didn’t know him as Stacie did, he would have looked completely in control.

  Still his sub at heart, Stacie was so tuned in to him that she couldn’t help but pick up on the air of uncertainty, something she’d never seen in him before. By default, then, she had the upper hand—and found that around Cam, it was the last thing she wanted.

  Remember what he did. Remember what he said.

  She did remember…and she’d forgive him in a heartbeat if he asked her to, but that was one thing a man like Cam would never do. At least, not of a woman whom he didn’t love.

  Stacie put a mug down on the coffee table, close to where he was standing, then took the other one to the opposite side, to put as much distance between them as she could. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was here to say, but she figured that having that space there couldn’t be a bad thing. And if the worst came to the worst, from where she was sitting, she could be in her bedroom and behind a locked door before he could get to her. Not that she thought it would come to that for one moment—Cam, like any Dom, was all about control.

  She sipped her coffee and waited.

  After a few moments, Cam unfastened his jacket and sat down. He reached for the coffee but drew back, wiped his hand over his face and the back of his neck. “Stacie, there’s so much I need to say to you, but I’m damned if I know where to begin.” He looked at her as if he were searching for inspiration.

  “Why don’t you just start? I’m sure the order won’t matter, so long as you say everything you came here to say. Then you won’t need to come back.”

  And where the hell had that come from? Stupid question, she thought—the answer was obvious. It came from the part of her that was still raw and bleeding, the part that had listened to him tell her that their relationship was over, the part that had listened to the doctor tell her that she’d lost her baby…the little girl who was the last part of the man she loved that she would ever have.

  She should have been pleased when that particular barb struck home, but strangely it hurt even more when, for an unguarded instant, she caught the flash of pain that crossed his face. Her foolish heart. Even now, after everything that had happened, she still had feelings for him.

  What an idiotic understatement! You love him and you always will.

  All things considered, she hadn’t known Cam that long, but in all the time she’d known him, she’d never seen him lost for words. Until now.

  The seconds ticked by, until finally he spoke.

  “First of all, don’t get mad at Beth—she had the best of intentions when she came to see me. And I’m glad she did. I know about the baby, Stacie,” he admitted heavily. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  So that was it. That was what he came to say. Whatever she’d thought he might say first it wasn’t that, but there was no doubting his sincerity. It was almost as if he aged visibly as he said the words. But sorry for what?

  “Don’t worry—I like Beth too much to be mad at her. I should never have asked her to keep it from Alex. I should never have told her in the first place. Why are you sorry, Cam? That I lost her, or that I got pregnant in the first place?”

  This time he looked directly at her, his expression one of complete horror, then his eyes fell again, focusing on the hands clasped between his knees.

  “You have every right to ask that,” he said raggedly. “I’m sorry you lost our daughter. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when it happened. I’m sorry I lost sight of the most important thing of all.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “That we belonged together. That I loved you.”

  Belonged. Loved. Past tense, no longer in the present. Stacie’s heart cracked. Just when she thought she was starting to get over the pain of losing the man she loved and the life they’d created together, he had to come back into her life, only to disappear from it again just as quickly, as he surely would after this visit.

  “Why are you here, Cam? What’s the real reason? Wasn’t hurting me over the phone enough for you? You had to come here, put me through that all over again, so you could see for yourself just how much you hurt me?”

  If that was all he’d come for, then he could leave right now.

  “Stacie, I can’t tell you how much I regret that—”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  Her tone was more aggressive than she intended it to be but it struck home, judging by the sudden pallor of his face…as if in that instant, he realised that she wasn’t going to be a pushover. Whatever she might have thought his response would be, the response she got surprised her again.

  “To keep you safe. You were hurt because of me, Stacie, because of what I do. It’s the only thing I’m any good at, the only thing I know how to do…I had no choice. It was the only way I could protect you.”

  Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? That he’d dumped her because of his job?

  It would be easy to accuse him of choosing his work over her and their relationship, but something was telling her that that thought had never entered his head. He was an honourable man—his actions the night they first met told her that—and his point of view was exactly as he’d said…that she was hurt because of the job that was such an intrinsic part of him that it was impossible to tell where the job ended and the man began. And the only way he could protect her from being hurt again was to remove himself from her life. Yes, she could quite see his way of thinking leading him to that conclusion.

  He repeated the statement. “I had no choice, Stacie. I thought about giv
ing up my work so we could be together, but I knew that would change me into someone you wouldn’t want and you’d walk away from me anyway.”

  As if she’d ever not want him. The way his mind was working was making her head spin. Male logic was decidedly one of life’s great mysteries. “Would you excuse me a moment, please? I won’t be long.”

  Stacie headed for the bathroom, her mind in turmoil. She so wanted to believe everything that Cam had said, but her sense of self-preservation dictated otherwise. As she splashed cold water over her face, she acknowledged that she was just trying to buy herself a little extra time.

  The love she had for Cam Fraser had diminished not one iota in the time they’d been apart. It never would, and she would be deluding herself if she were to think otherwise. She wanted to be with him, spend the rest of her life with him, have a real family with him. She wanted to give him her love and her trust again, give both of them a chance to be loved and to be happy.

  So what was she to do? Behave like a prima donna, haul him over the coals, carry on extracting her pound of flesh? Or just face up to the fact that the stupid arsehole had made a mistake, he’d come clean about it, and all that stood between them and happily ever after was her ability to forgive him?

  He’d done what he’d done for the best of reasons, it was as simple and as misguided as that—he was a strong man who wanted to protect what was most precious to him, someone he loved. How could she not forgive him for that? He’d just gone about it in entirely the wrong way. He was an idiot male who thought he knew best.

  Don’t they all?

  She loved Cam for the man he was…and his work was a large part of what made him the man he was.

  Reject the job and you reject the man. Accept the man and you accept the job.

  She loved him, and with that love came understanding and compassion…and the ability to forgive.

  However, one niggle remained—the fact that he’d said he loved her in a way that might be interpreted to mean he no longer felt the same way. On the other hand, it might just be a clumsy expression of his feelings—then and now. She could make all the guesses and assumptions she wanted but they wouldn’t help—only the truth could do that, and if the truth was that he no longer loved her, then she could be strong enough to deal with it.